No More Learning

"Dear Marya," I said, at last, "I look upon you as my wife. These
strange events have irrevocably united us. Nothing in the whole world
can part us any more. "

Marya heard me in dignified silence, without misplaced affectation. She
felt as I did, that her destiny was irrevocably linked with mine; still,
she repeated that she would only be my wife with my parents' consent. I
had nothing to answer. We fell in each other's arms, and my project
became our mutual decision.

An hour afterwards the "_ouriadnik_" brought me my safe-conduct pass,
with the scrawl which did duty as Pugatchef's signature, and told me the
Tzar awaited me in his house.

I found him ready to start.

How express what I felt in the presence of this man, awful and cruel for
all, myself only excepted? And why not tell the whole truth? At this
moment I felt a strong sympathy with him. I wished earnestly to draw him
from the band of robbers of which he was the chief, and save his head
ere it should be too late.

The presence of Chvabrine and of the crowd around us prevented me from
expressing to him all the feelings which filled my heart.

We parted friends.
Pugatchef saw in the crowd Akoulina Pamphilovna, and amicably threatened
her with his finger, with a meaning wink. Then he seated himself in his
_"kibitka"_ and gave the word to return to Berd. When the horses
started, he leaned out of his carriage and shouted to me--

"Farewell, your lordship; it may be we shall yet meet again! "

We did, indeed, see one another once again; but under what
circumstances!

Pugatchef was gone.

I long watched the steppe over which his _"kibitka"_ was rapidly
gliding.

The crowd dwindled away; Chvabrine disappeared. I went back to the
pope's house, where all was being made ready for our departure. Our
little luggage had been put in the old vehicle of the Commandant. In a
moment the horses were harnessed.

Marya went to bid a last farewell to the tomb of her parents, buried
behind the church.

I wished to escort her there, but she begged me to let her go alone, and
soon came back, weeping quiet tears.

Father Garasim and his wife came to the door to see us off. We took our
seats, three abreast, inside the "_kibitka_," and Saveliitch again
perched in front.

"Good-bye, Marya Ivanofna, our dear dove; good-bye, Petr' Andrejitch,
our gay goshawk! " the pope's wife cried to us.